Page 8 of Charm on the Rocks
“Oh, yeah?” he asked in a deep, expressive voice. “I think this is the seventeenth time I’ve read this book. I should probably get a new one.” He gestured at the thoroughly broken spine of the book and then the curled corners.
“My copy looks similar to yours,” she said and then shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I kind of like how used it is. It shows how much I like it and how good it is.”
“Holden Caulfield is my hero,” he continued. “Seriously. I wish I could go around calling people phonies and not caring.”
Madison felt herself laughing and nodding her head. “Right?” she asked. “I’m Madison, by the way.”
“Brady,” he said. “Is this your third year?”
At that moment, the professor walked in – three minutes and eighteen seconds late – muttering apologies for his tardiness and preventing Madison for continuing the conversation she was having. She angled her body to the center of the class, suddenly wishing the professor had come later so she could learn more about this Brady guy. She had never met a member of the opposite sex, a good looking one at that, who also loved Catcher in the Rye. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that he chose to sit right next to her.
Which just begged the question as to why he did that. Who sat directly next a stranger?
“Okay, I’ve sent the sign-in sheet around,” the professor announced, interrupting Madison from doing what she did best – overanalyzing a simple statement. “Please initial next your student identification number so I can take roll and once I get the computer booted up with my PowerPoint, we can start.”
“No,” Madison whispered, leaning in closer to him. He smelled like a subtle hint of masculine cleanliness. “To answer your question. I’m a fourth year.”
God, did she really sound like the biggest idiot on the planet? “Yeah, me too,” Brady said with a smile. “I haven’t seen you around campus. Are you a psych major?”
“Criminology,” she replied, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. It was only when her eyes happened to glance at the dark lock of hair that she realized what she was doing and immediately stopped. Madison prided herself that she was not that girl. “You?”
He nodded his head. “Yeah, I want to be a research psychologist with an emphasis in criminal trials,” he explained. “I guess a basic example of this is conducting a study to figure out if a defendant’s race influences whether or not they will be sentenced to death.”
“That’s really interesting.” Her mind actually forced herself to shake her head at how lame that response sounded. “I’m interested more in the why a criminal does what he does, but even more than that, why people and the media are fascinated with a particular criminal over another criminal, despite the exact same criteria a crime and criminal have.”
“Criteria?”
“Sorry.” Yes, she was blushing. Again. God, what had gotten into her? “When I say criteria, I mean the main factors that went into a crime. For instance, take a white male, mid-forties, snatching a white girl, age five to seven, molesting her and then killing her. Do you know how many similar crimes there are that don’t get the same media attention or spark a public outcry like the one I just mentioned? I’m not going to stand on some soapbox and demand that there should be more equality in coverage and outrage and all that stuff. What I’m interested in is why people are more interested in crime A over crime B when, essentially, they’re the same.”
He pushed his brows up. Was it her imagination or did Brady actually look impressed? Not that she cared or anything. She was an independent woman and didn’t need any sort of validation. Not even from a hot student who wanted to be a research psychologist with a focus in criminal trials and read The Catcher in the Rye as much as she did. Oh, and that he had really pretty eyes. And an adorable smile. And those freckles –
Stop.
Her face crimsoned even more when she realized that her brain had gone on quite a tangent. Madison felt like a silly middle school girl who had a crush on the quiet, smart guy. Except now, he seemed to notice her. He had chosen to sit next to her, after all, when he could have chosen to sit practically anywhere.
“Wow,” he murmured. “I’ve never heard someone describe it like that. That would be incredibly interesting to explore.” He paused, setting his book down and crossing his arms over his chest. “So are you from around here?”
A groan from the professor caused the conversation to halt once again. “Sorry guys, just hang on a couple more minutes,” he said, his eyes glued to the screen as his fingers typed furiously on the keyboard. “I promise I’m not doing this on purpose, though I do hope your thirst for social psychology is burning up.”
When Madison was certain the professor wasn’t going to say anything else, she tilted her head toward Brady, and said, “No, actually. South Haven. A small town in Michigan.”
“Really?” He sounded surprised. “Why come out to California?”
“Would it sound cliché if I said the weather?” The question was rhetorical and Madison was glad that Brady understood that. “Actually, I love the beach. It’s just... calming. Inspiring. I hate cities. I hate New York. I just loved how relaxed and unpretentious the people from here are. I came here a long time ago with my family when I was ten. My dad took us to Disneyland. It was one of the best moments of my life. I never forgot it. So here I am.” Again, the redness burned her cheeks. “Sorry. I’m babbling.”
“Please. Don’t apologize.” He managed to lock eyes with her, despite her embarrassment. “You seem to lead an interesting life, Madison. I’d love to hear more about it.”
Her heart leapt. As much as she hated to admit it. But she bit down on her bottom lip in order to keep her thoughts and her ramblings to herself.
“Oh,” she said in a soft, shy voice. Yes, shy. Madison Montgomery was never shy, not even around the opposite sex. Until now, apparently. “Actually, I’d love to know more about you.” Oh, God, how lame. How lame! “Are you from around here?”
“Yup,” he said. “Born and raised in Irvine. Probably the most boring story ever told. Nothing much to say. But I like it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m hoping to travel, you know, around the world so I can say I’ve lived. But I’d still like to settle back down here. In Orange County. I’m saving up. Working at the movie theatre. You know the AMC at the District?”
“Eh...” Madison shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, I’ve heard of the District. It’s like a mall, right? But not as big. But I’ve heard of it.”
“It’s about twenty minutes from here,” Brady said. “Ten if you drive like me. I also work as a security guard for my neighborhood. It’s the lamest job.”
Madison laughed. “Do you get to wear a uniform?” she asked.